


Rot Unto Ruin

by GothMoth



Series: Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 2.0 (The 2020 Edition) [8]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, Decay, Feral Behavior, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Less Human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:47:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth
Summary: He was dying, and this time there wasn’t any partially get out of jail free card.
Series: Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 2.0 (The 2020 Edition) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685341
Comments: 28
Kudos: 270
Collections: Phic Phight!





	1. From Rot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sapphireswimming](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphireswimming/gifts).



Danny was dying, he knew that. How could he not? What with all the _changes_. How his blood was slowly browning. How his skin was far too paled and even growing transparent in places, yet basically couldn’t bruise even though the discolouration made it look a bit bruised. How sometimes he wouldn’t bleed _at all._ The way his skin was starting to shrink, elongating his nails and hair; and was so frail that it tore easily. The slowly disappearing colour and wetness from his eyes. How his teeth always felt a little looser every day. How his breath smelled of rot and got worse every day; and his vomit, on the off chance he would vomit, was easily one of the most disgusting things he’s seen. And most recently, how his wounds were barely healing. 

Running a finger over one of the odd twenty stitches littering his right arm, with a slight grimace. Like always now, there was no bruising, platelet crusting, or redness. Simply two sides of skin pulled and held together. It didn’t hurt either, he’s pretty sure either his nerves have just decayed or they’ve been fried. The lack of pain was nice though, even if it did result in him absentmindedly fiddling with his stitching more often. 

Getting up and stretching, skin pulling loosely, like it was barely attached, over ribs and spine. He honestly should have realised something was wrong, when he didn’t put on even a pound of muscle after actively getting into near-daily super-powered fistfights for the better part of a year. But he was distracted, so sue him. He had also foolishly written off his weight instead _dropping_ as him shedding excess fat. Ha! He never even _had_ any excess fat! He had always been short, because he had always been skinny. Never enough food in the house, with a mother who so often forgot to cook anything. He would have starved if Jazz hadn’t learned to cook. 

Pulling on a thick baggy sweater (thick to hide his thin frame and jutting out stitching), and rubbing at his ribs, which would be a muscled chest if he wasn’t _dying_. Then shaking his head at his bedroom mirror, his thin crispy hair shaking around; it was obvious he was swimming in his baggy clothing, but he didn’t look deathly skinny at least. Really, if his parents were good and attentive, they would have noticed there was something seriously wrong with his body. Jazz, of course, had, she noticed nearly _everything_. Ancients, she had been _so_ worried. Danny’s glad he’d figured out what was going on before she noticed. She would have lost her mind with worry and panic and babying him, if he hadn’t been able to explain that it ‘was just the way his body worked now and to not worry about it’. She still worried of course. He could be okay with that, especially when she really should be worried. Since it was decidedly not okay. How could dying ever be okay? Even for the half-dead. Well okay, he’s probably a lot more than just ‘half’ dead now. Probably closer to three-quarters dead. Four-fifths? 

The sad thing is, it wasn’t him who realised that something was wrong. His body was just his body. But Sam, ever the health nut, and Tuck, the carnivorous foodie who took painstaking care of his injuries purely to avoid hospitals, noticed things weren’t right. The amount he ate rivalled Tuck’s somedays and yet he was only losing weight. After one too many jokes of Tuck spraying him in the mouth with body spray -not a fun taste- there had to be something wrong. Sam picked up on having to buy paler and paler foundation and concealer to cover his bruises and cuts; then hardly to never having to do that at all. Now the concealer was to cover the transparency and dark veins. His hands were the worst, he just wore gloves now. Sam was also the one to note the dryness of his hair, how it sometimes made crunching sounds. Danny was a bit surprised it was Tuck who called his eyes out on ‘lookin’ kinda like a dead fishes’. Danny’s just lucky not having black pupils was a common trait in Amity. 

Moving to the bathroom to get started on today’s makeup. Staring into the mirror as he puts on his primer, he didn’t mind the makeup. Kind of made him feel girly in the beginning, but after a bit he got good at spotting when someone was wearing makeup. Realising _Dash_ , of all people, wore makeup had killed any of Danny’s embarrassment. What he did mind was _what_ he was trying to cover up. The discolouring, the slightly shrivelled look to his lips (which was only getting worse), the shadows around his eyes that gave away how sunken they were, the thin dried-out skin. 

Dabbing the foundation around, of course he knew _why_ this was what he looked like now. Practically a walking corpse. Sam and Tuck did too. Jazz would probably figure it out, or maybe he would tell her when things got _really_ bad. His idea of ‘ _really_ bad’ might be a fair bit skewed though. But the fact of the matter was, he wasn’t just dying, slowly decaying, having the life sucked out of him by the endless marching on of time. He was being _killed_. Actively. Or was it technically a slow drawn out unintentional suicide instead? 

Seeing as it was _him_ who was killing him. 

Or his ghost half at least. 

Heading out of the bathroom, pulling on his gloves as he goes. It was kind of funny that _Tuck_ was the one who wasn’t surprised by his encroaching full death. Had thought it only made sense. Had said ‘dude, there’s no way you could just... _stay_ in limbo forever. Eventually the universe has got to fix Its fuck up right?’. Danny just kind of viewed it as the Reaper collecting their dues. And he’d say that if he fully keels over before Vlad, he’d be _pissed_. Especially with Vlad's vampire looking ass. But Vlad already _had_. Long before they met actually. Vlad was just insane enough to clone his living body and do Ancients knows what to fuse his ghost self to the cloned Vlad. Danny has literally no idea if that guy actually counts as a halfa still. 

Closing the door and looking around before slipping into the alleyway to transform. Flying past storefront and house windows, his reflection bouncing off of them. That reflection. The look of his ghost form. That had been how they figured it out. Figured out why his human body was seemingly on a oneway ticket to the grave. It also explained why Vlad’s ghost form looked the way it did; he used to wonder about that a lot. 

Brushing a clawed hand through his white hair, the tapered point of his pale blue-tinted ear scrapping against his jumpsuit covered wrist. Both his forms were slowly looking more dead. Because they _were_ becoming more dead. Blue skin was probably just the colour all halfas would turn. He’s glad his eyes stayed their neon green though; he could do with not looking even more like Dan. 

Running his tongue (which absolutely felt like it was on the verge of being forked) over the points of his teeth. His growing fangs. It weirded him out that they were thicker and longer than Vlad’s _and_ Dan’s. Just before his ghost sense goes off. Figures. 

Feeling his jumpsuit tighten and stretch slightly over coiling muscles -not bones- as he shoots off towards battle. That was something that ticked him off before he had realised why it was happening. His ghost form, but not his human form, gaining muscle mass. His ghostly pride got bothered more and more every day by how frail his human form looked and felt. It made just _staying_ in ghost form more attractive by the day. 

Groaning a little at it just being Boxy, muscles relaxing as he rolls his eyes. “How are you doing on this fine morning, my neighbourhood punching bag?”. Not giving him so much as a second to respond before promptly kicking the shit out of him. Relishing in the pull of muscles, the hum of burning off built-up ecto-energy, the satisfaction of landing a good blow. He _loved_ fighting. It was kind of obvious. And Tuck and Sam were just as addicted to it. Valerie too. 

His Core making a little purr as he caps the thermos before flying towards school. In the beginning, he couldn’t even feel his Core, was totally unaware of it. Now Its powerful hum was always there, just under his chest. His heart was harder to feel or hear now. Though if someone were to try and take his pulse they’d probably notice the ice-cold skin first. 

Transforming behind the school before slipping inside, popping a mint, and throwing a small wave to his friends. He’s glad they throw him warm smiles back. He hated how they had looked at him with pity, worry, and even slight disgust, when they had realised his human body was dying. That they were hugging and high fiving a body rotting on Its way to being a corpse. He knows they still feel bad for him, are scared of the day his human body keels over and tosses his spirit out; decides it can’t handle the energy draw and contamination anymore. But at least they don’t show it. Even if everyone knows his body’s not going to last much longer. But hey! His has outlasted Vlad’s! That’s something to brag about!

Rolling around the mint before greeting them, “hey guys”.

Tuck slaps Danny on the shoulder, “sup dude. Lancer’s sick and ain’t nobody willing to cover or come in to substitute in ghostville”, laughing with a goofy grin, “so free block for us!”.

Danny smirks, “ _nice_ ”. Stretching out, and really the only reason he doesn’t grimace over the sound of his bones creaking in response, is because he’s used to it. Sam and Tuck hear it too, he knows, but they’ve adjusted to that too. That really shouldn’t be something they’re adjusted to. 

Sam raises an eyebrow at him, “slept in a little?”.

Danny nods and yawns a little, “accidentally broke my arm before bed”, pointed looking at Sam, “and _not_ from a fight”. Which of course meant he had to stay up later to fix it and sleep longer so that his ghost side could fuse the bones back together; contaminating the bone further. 

Sam rolls her eyes but Tuck snickers, “one of these days we should just open you up and reinforce your bones with titanium”. 

Danny rolls his eyes, “you know how expensive that would be?”. No one comments on how it should also be extremely painful. Them all well aware he wouldn’t feel a thing pain-wise.

Sam shrugs, “money's no problem of mine. Now let’s go screw off to somewhere nice, dark, and secluded”, and gesturing for the boys to follow. Both of whom chuckle. 

They don’t make it very far when Dash decides to make his presence known by making Danny’s face get to know a locker a little bit better. Danny rolls his eyes at the jock, it’s not like he was scared of the guy. Even if half the time nowadays he got a broken collar bone or rib as a present from the guy. Brittle bones _sucked_. But at least nothing hurt anymore. 

“What do you want, _Dash_ ”.

The jock sneers, “why I’m just saying hello to my absolute favourite punching bag”, smirking and shoving the freak into the lockers again, “really, you should feel lucky I even think of you”.

Danny is feeling ever so slight dejavu and yup, definitely a cracked rib. Rolling his eyes, and speaking thick with sarcasm, “oh wow I’m so utterly and positivity blessed. Can’t you tell by my face just how wonderfully happy I am?”. As usual, talking back earns him another shove. What Danny’s actually lucky over is that Dash is a grade A moron. Otherwise, the jerk would notice that the guy, whose clothing he was grabbing, wasn’t just skinny but boney. 

“Me even touching your pathetic loser clothing to toss around your weak little loser frame is going to be the most ‘blessed’ thing to ever happen to you in your sad life”. Dash punches him in the gut -which Danny rolls with to pretend to feel pain from it- before lifting Danny up for good measure. 

Danny knows Sam and Tuck hate just standing-by and looking away, but he also knows they won’t get involved. And he knows why. If they got involved, Dash would go after them and Danny would get _protective_. Ghostly protective. That was another ghostly thing that was getting worse. Sam and Tuck were _his_. No one got to lay a finger on them or else. That, and Danny has just always been a protective person. So they stayed out of it, so that he wouldn’t fight back for their sakes. Since him fighting back would either get him hurt worse, if he managed to wrangle in his strength and ghostly ferocity. Or it would result in him _breaking Dash_. The second got more and more likely every day. Especially with how Dash’s ‘beatings’ irked his ghostly pride. 

Danny rolls his eyes and sneers, trying hard not to bare his teeth too much, “you know, saying the lies you tell yourself out loud, won’t make them come true”, chuckling at Dash’s scowl and tightened grip. Yup, there’s the creaking and snap of a broken collar bone, “I’ll give you one thing though. Being around you certainly makes everyone’s lives sadder. Seeing as the longer I live with you around, the faster I feel like I’m dying”, smirking, “wonder how many others feel that way too”. 

Danny knows he hit a weak spot, which fine, his ghost side relished in a little. Hitting a weak spot in a fight always gave you the upper hand. Dash flinches slightly and practically growls at Danny, “why you little freak!”. And promptly tears open a locker very aggressively and slams Danny inside. The locker door being swung shut so hard it caves in a little. 

Danny blinks from the impact, feeling multiple pieces of his spine break and splinter. Followed by his heart doing some weird spasming thing, his Core copying it seconds later. Danny yelps and goes wide-eyed just before his ghostly head impacts the ceiling of the locker. Groaning slightly, more out of shock than anything else, while he floats down a little; ghostly legs flipping overtop of bent human ones. 

Danny blinks and mutters, “oh fuck”, and moves to put a hand on his bodies -his corpses- chest, to keep It from pitching forward and possibly out of the locker. Hissing slightly, “I hadn’t meant that literally”. Okay so maybe sorta telling Dash he was dying more because of him, was tempting fate a little too much. 

Snapping his head to the creaking locker door, obviously Sam trying to pry it open. Shit, there was a very big difference between Danny being _dead_ and everyone _knowing that_. So he shoves his invisible and intangible hand through the locker. It was much more difficult to do than normal, and he knew why. ClockWork had warned him about this. That ghosts, no matter what, were always weak and ‘tired’ when they first separated from life; from their bodies. Making his hand tangible again to grab her wrist, before pulling his hand back into the locker; he didn’t have the strength to be really using his powers at the moment. Which makes her pause and whisper, well aware his heightened ghostly hearing would have no issue picking up what she’s saying, “what is it, Danny?”. 

Danny swallows, this was the thing all of them had been waiting on. Had been scared of. Sure he much more apathetically accepted his eventual fate. Didn’t mean he wanted it. Wanted _this_. He had to see if maybe, just maybe, he had just been... _accidentally_ tossed out. Considering his tiredness, that was a stupid hope to have. Phasing into his body and instantly noticing how his ghostly one just tries overshadowing it, instead of fusing back together like that time with the dream catcher thing. Leaving Danny not surprised when he just gets tossed out again. Crossing his legs and staring at It, at himself, his living self. Ancients, he/It looked like shit. He had been kidding himself that it wasn’t already _really_ bad. 

Shaking his head, he can’t think on this right now. Can’t just stay in here. Can’t stay in a locker with his freaking corpse. Turning to be near the vent, “guys, I... _it_ happened”. Danny doesn’t need to be able to see them to know they stiffened. 

Tuck’s voice comes through the vent, “are you...are you _sure_ dude?”.

Danny glances back to the/his corpse and nods to himself with a wince. Turning back to the vent, “yes”. Danny can hear them swallow hard. 

Sam asks cautiously, “can you... make _it_ invisible?”.

“No, I. I’m too... _tired_ ”. He knows they know what that means. 

Tuck takes a shaky breath -Danny was seriously going to miss being able to do that- before speaking, “okay, alright. Let’s just, wait, for the hallway to clear out”, pausing, “no, Sam _you_ wait. You’re the sneaky one. I’ll get the stuff for the bd contingency plan”, and scurries off. 

Danny sighs, running a hand through his hair, he’s glad to let them deal with this. That they are willing to deal with this. That they’re willing to just let him take a backseat, while they scramble to manage the fall out of this. He knows they set up the ‘burry Danny’ plan that way. Knows they all set it up specifically so he could just nope out of the situation. So he could handle himself and mentally deal with the fact that he was dead now. 

Sure they had to deal with the fact that their friend had just _died_ but he was still here, they were still going to see him; arguably not much would change for them. He was the one who was _dead_. Couldn’t breathe or feel his heart anymore. Would never hear the creak or break or solidness of another bone again. Wouldn’t feel organs working and moving and doing their jobs, even if barely, anymore. Wouldn’t eat, drink, or sleep ever again. What tied him to what was left of his human nature and human instincts, was gone; those things would always be completely foreign to him now. The pull of gravity would always feel wrong and strange now; on the rare chance he actually felt it at all. The human world wouldn’t feel like home anymore. Once he wasn’t so tired, he’d long for the Zone, for his lair -where ever it was- there. And the house, the only thing that protected him from its anti-ghost defences was his human body; so he couldn’t even go there now, or possibly ever again. And he wouldn’t even be able to cry over it, over all the loss. Because ghosts don’t have tears. They don’t have anything other than their ectoplasm. 

He was so tired. He just wants to shut off and float away. Even if he’s trapped in here, someone will open it eventually. But he also doesn’t want to let go, he almost violently doesn’t want to. On many levels. He knows that’s what makes a ghost really. Holding on to this or that. He has to deal with this so he can protect his town. He has to deal with this so Sam and Tuck won’t be too sad for him. But mostly, right now, he doesn’t want to let his body go. His life, his humanness, go. And it’s not like he can go anywhere right now. So he shifts closer to It and just sits there hugging It. He’ll stay like that till his friends let him out of here. With that decided, he lets his mind turn off for a while.


	2. From Ruin

Tucker returns with one of Sam’s large cloaks in tow, having already left the bags and shovels just inside the NeverWoods; burying him there was really the only thing they could do to avoid the town knowing what’s happened. Nobody ever went in there, hence the name. Nodding to Sam as he gets near the locker for her to open it up. Everyone else was either in class or to wherever they went during spares. 

Sam nods with a slight frown before opening it up. Both looking in to see Danny practically sitting in his body's lap, ghostly legs curled around and under his body thighs and his head against Its chest. The pale instead of vibrant glow to his green eyes giving away that he wasn’t really here at the moment. 

Sam sighs and puts on her cloak while Tucker goes about the task of getting him/them out. They had figured Danny wouldn’t really stay aware of everything going on around him when this happened. Especially when he had told them what ClockWork said about Afterdeath Shock. Even if Danny had known, was prepared, it would still affect him. 

Both are thankful it doesn’t take long to get Danny/them into Sam’s arms to be carried and covered up by the large cloak. To anyone else, it would just look like she was carrying her backpack or books and the cloak had simply closed around it. Danny was light, his body was, so she knew she’d have no issue simply carrying him halfway across town. Tucker had the harder job of trying to distract anyone who got too close. As they head out one of the schools' side doors, Tucker hacking and disarming the alarm attached to it. 

Neither are too happy to come face to face with Valerie halfway out of her suit. 

“Uh, I can explain?”.

The two glare at her and just walk past like they don’t give a damn, Sam snapping, “we don’t have time for this”, in annoyance.

Valerie moves in front of them, “what do you mean? You just-”.

Tucker cuts her off, “we already knew. Lancer’s sick so just go do whatever you do on spares. We’re heading out”.

Valerie stares blankly for a beat while the two start walking around her again. Her sputtering incoherently after a bit, before looking around, noticing Danny’s missing and, due to the lifestyle she lives, noticing the stiffness of their shoulders and the walking that’s trying to be fast but pointedly trying to not look rushed. Something was wrong. And it probably involved _Danny_. 

Shaking her head, being freaked out or upset with them _knowing_ takes a back seat to something possibly being wrong with one of her only actual friends. Jogging to catch up, “what’s wrong?”. And noticing Sam’s glare at Tucker. 

“Nothing. We’re just meeting up with Danny and probably playing hooky to dick around with some cool new invention his folks built”. Tucker thinks that’s believable enough. And it would make for a good deterrent, Fenton inventions were notoriously dangerous so people preferred to keep a safe distance. 

Sam hisses in annoyance in Valerie’s general direction, “and trying to not get caught in the process”. Which wasn’t even a lie. 

Valerie frowns, knowing damn well she’s being lied to. These two were worried. Likely about Danny. And she’ll be damned if he’s hurt or sick and she lets them chase her off. She’s hurt him too much to turn a blind eye now. Though she falls back slightly when her scanner starts beeping in her head, now that the systems have recharged. Blinking down at the ecto-signature that she knows so well, that is practically on top of Sam. That’s what was under the cloak... _he’s_ under the cloak and she’s _carrying him._ Swallowing harshly before she catches up, determination written on her face. 

Sam mentally winces when Valerie speaks in that strong Red Huntress tone, “what’s going on. Why are you-”, thankfully whispering then, “-carrying ghost D-”.

Tucker cuts her off again and tries to stay in her line of sight, block Sam/Danny from her, “just go patrol or something Valerie, we're fine”. Hoping that reminding her of the shock that they knew about her ‘activities’ would be sufficient distraction. 

But Sam pauses and squints at Valerie, “you were going to say ‘ _Danny_ ’ not ‘ _Phantom_ ’. _Why_ ”. It’s supposed to be a question but it sounds like an accusation with a very serious threat attached. 

Valerie glares but sighs, this wasn’t how she wanted this to come out. She wanted to tell him, in person, one on one, first. But it doesn’t matter now, “I... figured it out. A... few days ago”.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance, they shouldn’t be surprised, it was only a matter of time of course. Just like this. And Danny... he did trust her. Did like her. Sam, looking back to her, “fine. Follow”. Her words are clipped and unimpressed. 

Valerie comes around the other side of Sam and Tucker lets her. Valerie is willing to take that small victory. They have no reason to trust or like her after everything, after all. 

Speaking again after a while, “will he, be okay?”.

Sam sighs but doesn’t look to her, “maybe. In time”. Danny was strong, always. It always seemed like he could handle anything. He _did_ handle anything and everything. Things no one, especially a bunch of teenagers, should have to. But that was before. Now they were in uncharted territory. Danny wasn’t the same. Danny couldn’t be the same. And that changed things. The fact that he was still checked out, blissfully unaware of Valerie’s presence. Made that painfully clear. She just hoped that getting him to let go of his...body wouldn’t be too difficult for everyone involved. Valerie too apparently, who didn’t even know what was happening. What had happened. But Sam wasn’t about to say it out loud. That was just too final right now. 

Valerie speaks up again as they move into going through back-alleys, more secluded and barren, “can I... see him?”. She knows she’s treading on thin ice. But she has to at least try. 

Sam growls and keeps walking, tightening her grin on Danny’s body. While Tucker glances at Valerie, seeing the concern that she’s not even attempting at hiding. Danny was still ‘friend’ in her eyes, and that meant something to him. It really did. 

Looking to Sam, “ _Sam_...”. Who turns to and snaps back at him, “she shouldn’t be a part of this! She has no place!”.

Tucker squeezes her shoulder, hating the small tears in her eyes, “Sam. Danny trusts her, he _likes_ her. He’d want her involved. Ancients, he’d want _them_ involved”. Both of them know that by ‘ _them_ ’ he means the Fenton’s. Even if those ‘parents’ barely deserved the title of ‘parent’ in their eyes. They had thought this from the day Danny had broken his arm at ten-years-old and his ‘parents’ couldn’t even be bothered to take him to the hospital; too wrapped up in _their_ ‘work’. Since then Sam and Tucker knew that _they_ hurt him constantly, human and ghost, with their words, actions and inactions. The neglect, the unfair punishments, the willful ignorance of their stuff hurting him; that his human side had faced. The hunting, the verbal abuse, the attempts at dissection; that his ghost side faces. And the fact that this was _their_ _fault_. Danny was like this, because of _them_. And the two couldn’t ever forgive _them_ for making that portal. 

Sam stares at Tucker strongly for a few seconds before squeezing her eyes shut. Tucker was right. He would want _them_ here. Right now and later. Even if they shot at him during. Valerie had more right to know and be involved than _they_ did by miles. That wasn’t even up for debate. Valerie had proven she could play nice, could be friendly, to ghosts; to Danny specifically. Valerie had a reason, a good one now, to hunt ghosts. Not just baseless hateful bigotry. And she was his _friend_ , she had, and maybe still did, _love him_. And she _knew_ , apparently, what he was and it seemingly changed nothing for her. She wouldn’t be here if it had changed her view of Danny. Her care for him. 

But still, Sam whispers, “I can’t”, before opening her eyes and walking forward again. Tucker just sighs and sends Valerie an apologetic glance. 

Valerie curls her fists and decides she’s taking the initiative. She _has to know._ Something is _seriously wrong_ to make Sam, _the Sam Manson_ , tear up. She’ll feel good about Danny apparently trusting her, even after everything, later. Walking a bit quicker to get around and in front of the goth and grabbing her right shoulder; stopping her. Valerie knows being forceful won’t get her anywhere and she doesn’t have the heart to be angry when the goths makeup looks a bit wet, “ _please_ ”. 

Tucker bites his lip but says nothing, Sam staying quiet as well. Valerie takes this as a tentative go-ahead and brushes Sam’s cloak out of the way a bit. Enough to reveal a wide-eyed but clearly unseeing Danny and a bit of glowing white hair tucked underneath his chin. Valerie just sort of _stares_ for a bit before moving a slightly shaky finger to Danny’s neck and whispering when she can’t find a pulse on the cold skin, “is he? Did he?”. Closing her mouth without finishing, while Sam tightens her grip again; though she's careful not to damage his bodies brittle bones and skin. 

Tucker swallows and steps forward, moving Valerie out of the way so they can keep walking. He knows he’s going to have to be the one to say it, neither girl will. Valerie, too new to the knowledge and not having years to prepare. Sam, two closed off and bottled up in her everyday life, to really deal with it when the things she closed herself off from came to ahead. Tucker... he was okay. He wasn’t really, but he was better. He had accepted and processed this happening a long time ago. Just like he knew Danny had. Danny’s full _death_ was logical, and Tucker was a logical person. It still hurt, but at least it made sense. And Danny was... accepting of it, which mattered. It mattered a lot. If Danny couldn’t be okay with it, then there’s no way Tucker could. Even though Tucker knows it will take Danny a while to be truly and completely alright with it. With being dead. It was going to be an adjustment. Danny was going to miss a lot of things; it was probably better that ghosts didn’t really normally remember being alive. His behaviour was going to change; the natural human behaviour was going to be possible anymore and neither he nor Sam wanted Danny to just _pretend_ to behave like a human. At the same time, there was no way to know how Danny would feel after coming out of shock. Moving Valerie’s chin to look him in the eyes, “Danny’s been... _dying_ for a while now. It’s. It’s just something that happens”. Sam flinches but keeps walking. 

Valerie looks like she might get sick a little, “but-”.

Tucker shakes his head, “there’s nothing that can or could have been done. And it isn’t anyone’s fault”, frowning, “at least not anyone _here’s_ fault”. Then turning and walking after Sam. Leaving Valerie to work through things. He doesn’t blame Dash, he swears he doesn’t. It was going to happen. He just wishes it had happened almost anywhere else. With them. At each other houses. He wishes Danny got to graduate while he was still alive. 

Valerie swallows, Danny was... Danny was _dead_. He had... _died_. Had apparently been... _dying_ for a while. How? Why? Tucker said. He said it was ‘just something that happens’. Was it, was it because of being half ghost? Staring at Sam’s back, of course it was. Half ghost meant half _dead_. That couldn’t, it couldn’t be a forever arrangement. She wanted to curl up and cry. But looking at them, they weren’t. Not really. They, all three of them, must have known for a while. Tucker said as much. There... there’s no way they wouldn’t have tried to stop this, halt it, save him. Tucker said there was nothing that could have been done, like it was a fact. So they must have tried. Must have failed. And instead just...accepted it. Let it happen. Continued on with their lives as if he wasn’t _dying_. Looking to her hands. Had she sped this up by shooting at him? Or stressing him out? Would he have lasted longer if she hadn’t been the way she was? Was? Were Vlad and Danielle _dying_ too? Why did it have to be _Danny_ , not _Vlad_. Danny was good and so so sweet. He didn’t deserve this. Even if he had likely accepted it. 

Scurrying after the two but staying behind them a little and rubbing at her eyes. Asking quietly, “why?”. 

Sam just snaps, “why do you think”.

Tucker sighs and actually looks back to Valerie, Sam wasn’t often capable of being sensitive, “he couldn’t stay in-between forever. He was just... taking the scenic route. The long car ride. A marathon instead of a sprint”, sighing, “honestly, the fact that he got to take the long way at all is nothing but luck. We are, and he was, lucky to get the extra time. Even if it was time spent while walking the path to _this_ ”. 

Sam whispers, “stop talking about him like he’s not here”.

“It’s easier Sam. And he’s not really here right now, not mentally anyway”.

Valerie grabs onto that to distract herself and shoves down her stupid feelings. “What do you mean? Is he... unconscious?”. She’ll admit, she has no idea what happens directly after someone... _dies_. And she never really wanted to know. 

Tucker looks to her but squeezes Sam’s shoulder. He’ll explain, she can just focus on walking and ignoring the lack of Danny’s heartbeat. “Its called Afterdeath Shock”, swallowing, “it makes ghosts tired and they usually just mentally turn off and float for a while. Danny probably would have floated off somewhere if he hadn’t been trapped when he had gone fully into shock”. 

Valerie looks to Sam’s back, “is it? Is it bad that I’m kind of glad he’s here right now? That he didn’t... float off?”.

Tucker looks to the outline of Danny/his body, under the cloak and bites his lip, “I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s good for him to be wrapped around _It_ like this”. 

She nods as they turn the corner and start heading into the NeverWoods. Her stopping and staring at the trees and dirt before looking after them again. Tucker pausing and looking back, easily hearing the lack of a third set of footsteps on the crunchy leaves, “are you... coming or?”. 

Valerie makes a face and follows Tucker with her eyes as he moves to grab a pair of shovels from behind a tree. “Are... are you-”, shaking her head, “-are we, _burying_ him?”.

Tucker looks to her, noting the change to ‘we’ and nods, “yeah, that’s the plan. We all -me, Sam, and Danny- agreed on what to do when the time came”. 

Valerie rubs her eyes a little but nods and follows, “if that’s what he wants then okay”. Earning a curt but understand nod from both of them. She doesn’t care that this hurts and isn’t going to be easy. But if he wants this then she’ll be damned if she doesn’t help, if she’s not part of it. It’s the least she can do after everything. 


	3. Comes Peace

Danny comes back into awareness a bit to the sounds of crunching leaves and a voice. “He seemed fine. Skinny but fine. Why... why _now_? Why would _this_ happen _now_?”. He can’t quite place it. It wasn’t Sam’s, whose warm breathing chest he can feel pressed against part of his forehead, or Tuck’s. Hearing him respond to the voice, “we all hid it, he put a lot of effort into it. Baggy bulky clothes and makeup. The gloves. Sam was going to invest in a wig for him soon”. 

The voice makes a quite, “oh”. 

Sam snaps a little, “yeah well people should have noticed. Makeup and clothing only does so damn much! But no one fucking did because they didn’t goddamn care!”. He doesn’t want her to be mad, he’s glad no one noticed. He understands though, even if he still feels kind of fuzzy and like he wants to float. She was always so pissed that no one ever noticed what was going on. 

Tuck tries soothing the situation by pointing out, “Jazz noticed”. Danny kind of wants to look at him, but he doesn’t really want to move or let go of the -cold not warm- arm he’s holding. 

The third voice whispers, “I should have noticed”. And that’s when Danny places it. It’s was Val. Why was she here? And why was it so dark? Like a cave only being illuminated by his glow. 

Everyone stops walking when he asks, “Val?”. Definitely sounding as small and out of it as he still felt. 

“Yeah, Danny. I’m, I’m here. How are you... feeling?”. 

Light comes in with the sound of fabric moving, so he turns his head towards it a little and hums, “kinda fuzzy”. 

Tuck nods, “you’re probably still in shock then dude. So just rest and we’ll do what we’re doing”. 

Danny nods and moves his head back, looking at his glowing hand curled around a thick black oversized sweater. Oh. Right. That. The _it_. Him _dying_. That happened. Right. He’s... okay. He thinks. Shifting his head and feeling a chin digging into him a little. Right. He had sort of cuddled up with It, hadn’t he. That probably wasn’t healthy. He didn’t want to be like Vlad, unable to let go of the whole living thing. Of his body. But he also can’t really bring himself to care right now. He doesn’t want to move. 

Sam interrupts his thoughts, “do you want me to leave my cloak open? We’re in the woods, no one’s around”. He shifts and physically turns his head onto the other side, still resting his cheek on his corpses' chest, to look out into the woods. Right. The plan. He doesn’t feel like hiding or anything; and he would like to know his surroundings. But would they be okay being able to see him? To see him _and_ his corpse? “Would that bother you guys?”. 

Tuck glances at him, “so you remember?”, earning a small nod from Danny, so he continues, “good. And we’re... we’re fine dude. Valerie’s a little shocky, but she’s tough. You know that”.

Danny knows they’re not actually fine. How could any of them be? He was honestly more okay than they were. It made sense. He was the ghost, being dead was kind of normal. Dying was just... something that had happened. It sucked but he’s alright. More alright than he was. He knows damn well that’s because he wasn’t still clinging onto humanness. Human ways of thinking and feeling about the whole dying thing. It happened, he’s over it. But he also kind of doesn’t want to be. He guesses he’s already missing human things. He doesn’t want it to feel normal to not feel upset. He wouldn’t have felt this way a while ago. “I want to talk. So I guess leave it open. If that’s okay”.

Tuck forces a bit of a chuckle, “I don’t think we could make you not talk”.

Sam adds in, “one day you’re going to get tired of hearing your own voice”. 

Danny chuckles, “me? No, never”, sticking his glowing head out a bit to look at Val, he’s starting to feel more okay with moving, “so... you know I guess?”.

She nods and blinks teary eyes, “yeah. I... I meant to tell you I figured it out”.

Danny nods and gives her a small smile, “I’m glad. I always thought you’d be okay with me being, y’ know, a ghost. Maybe not fully though”, leaning back down on his corpses chest, “I _know_ none of you are really okay with fully ghost”. He doesn’t need to look to know all of them nod. 

Tuck asks, sounding a bit cautious, “and you?”.

Danny hums a little, “I'm okay. Alright. Don’t really think I can feel any other way about it. Ghost thing”.

Val nods, “makes sense. Probably would be bad if ghosts could be bothered by that”. Sam and Tuck nodding as well. 

Danny’s face lights up a little when they make it to the little clearing. The clearing with the large blue wisteria tree. He remembers when they found it. Sam went off about how it shouldn’t be possible to be here naturally, while Tuck had just blurted out that it ‘look like Danny’s eyes’. Nothing else could grow very tall nearby because of how much it blocked out the sun, so it was perfect for picnics or just to sleep. Or, to bury someone. “It’s been a while”.

Val looks confused but both Sam and Tuck nod. Sam whispering, “yeah it has”. While Tuck points out why, “it just took on a different meaning when we came to that decision, Danny”.

Val asks, “special tree?”. It’s obvious she understands what’s going on by her tone and that it’s happening here. He’s sad for making her sad, but he’s glad she’s here. She’s probably glad she’s here. That she’s part of this. Even if it isn’t a happy thing. 

Danny sticks his head out and nods at her, before uncurling his legs and arms. Pushing himself to float off and away from his corpse; he needs to let go of it, or he’ll never be able to. He knows this on some level. Floating over to touch the Mysteria Wisteria Tree as they called it, courtesy of his -absolutely wonderful, thank you very much- naming skills. Definitely noticing Sam and Tuck exchanging glances and sighing with relief. Obviously having being worried about him clinging to his corpse. Made sense. That wasn’t normal. Not like he ever was. 

Looking back to them after patting the bark, noticing Val giving Sam and Tuck a confused raised eyebrow. 

Tuck shakes his head, “it’s nothing”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “it’s fine to talk about it. I’d rather her understand than be confused”. Floating over to Val, walking was not something he had any interest in doing, while pointedly not watching Sam rest his corpse on the ground against the tree. If he watches it too much he’ll get attached. He knows this. “It’s a ghost thing. We can get _attached_ to or _possessive_ with I guess, what we left behind”. Asking curiously when she cringes a little, “Is that a better way to say it? I can’t really know what’s going to bother you guys now”. 

Val stares at him for a little bit, even Danny can tell Sam and Tuck are staring at her very pointedly. Right, Val probably hadn’t been really aware that how he thinks and whatnot, wasn’t going to be slightly human anymore. “Its better, Danny. You should call _that_ how you want though. Belongs to you, you know?”. Danny can practically _feel_ how forced the nonchalances is. 

“It being _mine_ mine, is kinda what I’m trying to avoid”, looking around at them, “and if I just call It what I feel like, I’m going to be calling It my corpse and I don’t think that’s a good idea for you guys”. 

All of them cringe. Tuck nods a little stiffly, “yeah, maybe not quite that blunt, dude”. Looking to Val, probably to change the subject. Humans really don’t like talking about death after all. “Danny’s trying to avoid a problem Vlad has. If he gets attached to _It_ and possessive, then he won’t be able to let go of _It_ ”, nodding while Danny rubs his neck, “Which will wind up with him hiding _It_ somewhere and doing none of us, probably not even Danny, knows what to _It_ ”.

Danny shrugs at Val awkwardly, “in case you haven’t noticed, ghosts get possessive and weird over what’s _ours_ ”. Glad to earn a genuine snort and eye roll from her. She’d be okay. 

Sam nods as she grabs up the bag, “which is part of why we’re doing this. So Danny won’t get attached”, looking to Danny while Tuck starts up shovelling the spot they picked. Val jerking and moving to grab the other to help. That one was meant for Sam. But it’s okay, Sam doesn’t seem to want it right now. She holds up a pack of makeup wipes, “do you want the makeup left on or off?”, this was something they hadn’t discussed before. 

Danny tilts his head, thinking back on how his corpses face _actually_ looked. It definitely wasn’t pretty. He’d say it would be unpleasant for his friends but Sam and Tuck knew what he looked like. Val might be bothered though. Sam can apparently tell he’s wondering about Val as she comments, “it doesn’t matter what she might think. It’s what _you_ want, Danny”. 

Val pauses at hearing her name and looks from the wipes to Danny. Obviously clueing in that he wore makeup, if she didn’t already know. “It’s fine Danny. If you want it off, then take it off”. 

Danny nods and looks back to Sam, “yeah. Yeah I want it off. It’s not me”. His makeup was something he _had_ to wear, not something he had wanted to. It wasn’t part of him or who he was. His clothing was part of who he was, that should be left with him. Not the makeup though. That wasn’t him. 

Sam and Val both nod, Val getting back to work with shovelling and Sam beginning to very gently wipe off the makeup. She knew how fragile his corpses skin was after all. 

Sam places the makeup wipes to the side, “alright”, looking up at Danny, who floats over for a better look. “Is there anything else you want done?”. 

Danny looks It over, his corpses face looked exactly as it did every morning, back when It wasn’t completely a corpse. That was nice. He definitely prefers this. Tilting his head, “do you think you could try to set the broken bones Dash gave me? I’d do it but...”. The less he touches It the better honestly, same for looking at It. Plus he can tell he’s still too tired to really be using his abilities. Floating’s one thing, it happened naturally. Everything else he’d have to spend energy on. 

Sam nods while Val chokes a little and whirls around to look at him, “Dash _breaks your bones!?!?_ ”. 

Danny waves her off, probably not seeming as bothered as a human really should, “nearly every time he tossed me around. It’s cause of my body's bones deteriorating. They’re really brittle”, waving her off again when she grimaces, “don’t worry, it never hurt. My body's nerves stopped working a while ago”. He’s not doing a good job trying to comfort her, obviously. Seeing as she grimaces more. He’s not quite sure what’s wrong with his explanation. So he goes with the easiest option, “is ‘my body’ still too blunt?”. 

Tuck stops digging and looks to him, “Danny dude, that’s not what’s bugging her. We -me and Sam- are used to the kinda shitty state of... your body. Valerie’s new to that”.

Valerie nods, “yeah. Zone how did I have no clue? And, um, ‘my body’ is okay. And Zone, how does makeup cover _that_ ”. Sam just glares at her.

Danny rubs his neck, “oh”, shrugging a little, “bones and stuff feels kind of distant now”, shrugging again, “probably makes it easier for me to talk about it objectively. It’s past”. He’s not sure how he feels right now about that fact. He kinda wanted to feel familiar and comfortable with having the solidness of bones. At least he wasn’t forgetting the feeling. It just felt very... detached from him. 

Sam pulls his attention, “you’re not forgetting things... are you?”. Danny instantly shakes his head making her sigh and smile at him. He’s glad her makeup looks like it’s dry again. He was probably distracting them from being bothered. 

Val looks around at everyone while Tuck gets back to work, “can that happen? Him forgetting?”. 

Sam nods at her before looking to Danny, “what got broke?”.

Danny traces his fingers in the air a bit away from his corpse over the spot on his collar bone, the two ribs and gestures at spots over his spine when she turns his corpse onto Its side and pulls off his sweater. Val looks a little started when he looks back to her. Probably over his corpses boniness. Giving her a more proper response, “pretty well all ghosts lose most, if not all, their living memories. Halfas are different because we gained a bunch of those memories _after_ dying. Even if we only died partly. So we can hold on to our living memories. ‘Can’ is not the same as ‘will’ though”. Val nods. Meanwhile, Sam gets to work, grumbling about how she was going to kick the shit out of Dash. 

By the time Sam’s done and is stitching shut any cuts she had to make, the hole is pretty deep. Danny floats over and grabs one of the edges, looking down and whistling. Which is probably too cheery of a sound for what they’re doing. “That’s pretty deep. Not quite far enough though”. They had agreed to go twice as deep as a normal grave. Just in case anyone tried to dig here before they could shoo them off. Or more so before Danny could fly over and shoo them off. 

Tuck nods, “not by a fair bit”, wiping off some sweat from his forehead. Danny knows that even though Tuck’s tired, he won’t ask Danny to help and will actively shoo him off if he tries. They wanted to do this themselves. Do this for him. He could understand that. Plus, Danny just wasn’t that strong right now. Looking up to Tuck as he speaks again, “you know. You’re a lot more okay with this than we expected”. 

Danny shrugs, “it’s past. And dying made me, both before and fully now, that’s something to thank in a way”. Living just wasn’t him anymore. It’s where he came from. Like a hometown to people who’ve moved away. They’ll cherish and look back on it, so long as it stays in their memories. But they won’t be bothered by having left, they won’t moron it really. It’s past. It happened and now they’re in the present. That’s all there was to it. 

Tuck shakes his head, “we’re never going to be thankful you died dude. Glad you’re okay with it though. Also guess ‘it’s past’ is the only way you know how to get across some ghost thing?”.

Danny nods as Tuck continues. “I just moved out of a house. No point being upset about it”. 

Val gives him a funny look, “that’s... very cold Danny. And now you don’t, uh, have a ‘house’ anymore”. 

Danny shrugs, “don’t need one”. Besides, he’s got a lair instead. He’ll need to find that when he’s not tired. He wonders where it’ll be. Being near ClockWork would be nice. Val still looks at him a bit funny but gets back to digging. 

Sam calls Danny over, “alright, how does this look?”. Danny points to a spot she missed stitching, he knows he’d normally be bothered by the lack of bleeding. Watching as she pulls his sweater back on, man his corpse seemed so much more boney from others perspective. His heightened vision, compared to a humans, probably made it more noticeable though. 

Sam puts everything away in the bag, getting up while pulling out the build-a-coffin Tuck had engineered. Sam had picked the wood and did the design work of course. Danny just picked out what he wanted and would like for it. Taking it as she passes it over, they had all agreed that he needed to be the one who built it. His part of this whole thing, his way of saying goodbye to his corpse. He didn’t really feel like he needed to, but it would make _his_ friends feel better. Plus, he absolutely would have needed to before. Humans, even part humans, were more sentimental in that way. He knew that. Didn’t make him feel any more invested in building this though. What did make him invested was that _his_ friends wanted him to do it. 

Glancing to _his_ friends, Val was still using _Sam’s_ shovel. Why. She needed it now. Baring his teeth a little. 

Sam taps Val’s shoulder while side-eyeing him. “What?”.

“My turn”. 

Val hands it overlooking a bit confused, though seems a little glad to sit and rest. Tuck pauses, looks up from the bottom of the grave and chuckles to Sam, “Danny getting annoyed Valerie’s using _your_ shovel”. Sam jumps down and nods while Val just looks confused. 

Val moves over and sits next to Danny’s floating form, very visibly pointedly ignoring his corpse. “I feel like I’m missing something here”.

Danny glances at her and hums, “you can make your own shovel if you want to keep working on the grave. It’s just-”, looking to her, “-that’s _her_ shovel. Tuck uses _his_ shovel. Sam uses _her_ shovel. Sam didn’t want it earlier, so you using it was... acceptable. It’s a possessive ghost thing”, tilting his head before continuing, “them not being ghosts doesn’t matter. Sam and Tuck are _mine_. So no one takes what is _theirs_. Including each other. Unless they allow it and don’t need or want it”, pausing and floating a bit closer to her, “you are _mine_ as well”.

“Is... is that a good thing?”.

She doesn’t seem offended or bothered, just genuinely confused. “Up to you, I guess. I considered it a good thing when I was human. Sam, Tuck, and Jazz seem to think it is too. So I guess it is. It just means I’ll be protective and possessive. Maybe a little territorial”.

Tuck shouts, “it’s why no one really picks on us anymore! So long as we don’t get involved anyway!”.

Sam adds in, “Dash took the longest to stop! But after Danny decked him into unconsciousness for taking Tucker’s hat! Everyone backed off!”. 

Val blinks and looks back to Danny as he’s putting on finishing touches. He used to feel a bit embarrassed and ashamed of his ghostly possessiveness and what not taking over. Now it just felt right. No one should be harming what’s _his_. Val asks, “is _that_ why Nathan leaves me alone now?”. Sam and Tuck laugh. 

Danny nods immediately, he did not like Nathan. Not one bit. “I kept telekinetically slamming lockers into his face when he’d chase or hound after you. I think he thinks you’re cursed or a witch, now though”. He’s glad Val laughs. Danny looks to her and smiles, “glad you’re not bothered. My possessiveness can be a bit much or not show itself very well sometimes. Or so Sam and Tuck say. Sometimes they don’t really appreciate the things I’ll do because of it”. Val nods, accepting this, maybe understanding it; then, a bit to Danny surprise and pleasure, takes out one of her older but bigger guns and dismantles it. Building a shovel from the scraps. 

Danny’s patting the finished coffin, black with white and purple accents. The oak was a strong wood, Sam made a good choice. He can’t help but smirk a bit at the howlite stones scattered over it like little stars. Picking a sleep stone only made sense. Tuck hops out of the dug grave, pointing at him, “your _stalking_ and _stunts_ when Sam was with Elliot is a great example of _why_ your possessiveness isn’t always so great. Plus, remember when I had to go on that camp thing? You scared the crap out of me dude”. Danny gives an apologetic shrug, even if he doesn’t feel sorry in the slightest. 

Sam crawls out, “alright. Are you ready?”. Instantly making the mood sombre again. Danny nods and pats his coffin with a smile anyway. 

Sam and Tuck each grab one of his corpses arms, gesturing for Val to take the legs. He likes that they’re including her. That all _his_ friends are doing this. It was good for them even if they were sad. They needed to let go of his corpse too. Just in a different way. 

Danny holds the coffin lid while they lower his corpse in, all four can’t help but look up at the swaying hanging leaves and flowers; a few floating down and into the coffin. Val mutters, “I see why you picked this place. It’s... really pretty”. Danny nods with a hum as he pushes the lid shut.

It’s lucky the four of them are strong, making it easy to lift up the heavy wood coffin with his much lighter corpse inside. Getting it actually in the hole is a Hell of a lot more difficult, but they manage. Of course they do. They _always_ managed. Danny floating out and helping each of them get out. As he had agreed with Sam and Tuck to do. Them leaving him behind, his once-living self behind, and taking his hand to go into the future with him, with his fully dead self. He liked the symbolism, they liked the closure. It made him feel good that they still wanted to be with him and walk with him, even though the him they had first befriended and walked beside was gone. Val may have become his friend, and more, after he started down the path of death; but she had known him first as a human boy, had loved him first as one. He’s so very glad she figured out what he was _before_ he wasn’t human anymore. 

He floats to sit in the tree branches, occasionally drifting around and playing with the swaying leaves and flowers; making some break-off and drift down. It looked pretty and calm. Whimsical. He hoped that made _his_ friends feel better while they did the task of burying his corpse. 

The three lean their shovels against another tree then come back and look up at him leaning on his arms on a branch and playing with a few leaves with his ghostly tail. 

Tuck commenting, “you really are okay huh?”. Danny nods and floats down to them as they all sit down. Val speaking up, “so what do we do now? I don’t really feel like going anywhere or doing anything”. Everyone else nods. Danny would want to go somewhere, his lair probably, if he wasn’t still just a little tired. Plus, _his_ friends needed him at the moment. So he’d stay anyway. Care for who was _his_. 

The flour flop to lay against the wisteria tree in something of a pile. After a while, Danny gets an idea. Looking around at all the wisteria leaves and flowers on the ground and glancing to his dirt-covered grave. “Hey, wanna cover my grave in flowers?”. 

Val’s the one to respond, “maybe in a bit Danny, we’re kind of tired”. Danny hums and nods, laying across them, making sure to be touching them all to some degree. _His_ humans, _his_ friends, _his_ family in a way; needed to recover. This was a lot for them. He already had his recovery time. 

Not too long later Tuck pushes his tail off him, and gets up, “alright, let’s do this. Before _someone_ starts experiencing Zone Pull”. 

Danny coils over them a bit as Sam and Val get up too. Val asking, “‘Zone Pull’”, as everyone starts carefully picking up the flowers and petals. 

Tuck nods, “yeah. Basically, Danny will _need_ to go find his lair in the Zone. Ghosts belong there so they get this urge, pull, call, however you want to put it, to be there”. 

“Oh”. Val speaks up again after a little bit, looking to Danny, “you’ll still be around though, right? More than the other ghosts?”. Danny’s honestly a bit glad she’s already used to seeing Phantom as just a ghost. Not a hybrid. Not a human. Sam and Tuck will probably forget sometimes. 

Danny nods rapidly, “of course! Amity is _mine_. I’m not leaving It. I’ll just need to be in my lair sometimes, especially if I get genuinely hurt”, chuckling and blowing air at a few leaves, “which I will. Being me and all”. Glad they all chuckle too, even if they’re rather quiet chuckles. He’ll have to figure out what to do about _his_ family, his genetic one, at some point; but that was an issue for another time. 

The four lift up arms filled with petals and drop them over Danny’s grave on the count of three. Resulting in some of them getting flung back up into the air. Danny can’t help but smile and laugh over all of them getting some petals stuck in their hair. The laughter catching on till the four are in a pile on the ground again, with three of them breathing a bit hard. 

Tuck pats Danny’s arm, “that was a good idea. I think we _all_ needed that”. Danny nods readily, side-eyeing his grave. It looked way nicer now and more final. Less like something fresh and more like something that was simply were it was supposed to be but just took its sweet time getting there. 

**End**.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Creator: sapphireswimming  
> Prompt: Danny is dying. His ghost half is killing him, and they all know it, but there’s nothing any of them can do to stop it (warnings: probably angst and death)


End file.
